Act of War - Brad Thor Page 0,104
on the wound.”
The officer was in pain, but seemed intent on continuing the conversation. “I am,” he said. “Now tell me about the rumors.”
Tang wondered if the man had a background in intelligence and was himself gathering information. “The guards talk about the mock American town,” said Tang. “They’re jealous. All of them want to go to America with you. They say they dream about pizza and milk shakes.”
The officer shook his head. “There won’t be pizza and milk shakes there for a long time. The guards will be better off here.”
Tang looked up from his tray. “But we’ve had political prisoners who have been to America. All they talk about is the food.”
“Only the Chinese will have the food.”
“Interesting,” he replied, turning his attention back to his tray.
The officer looked at him. “What do you mean, interesting? You don’t believe me?”
“I’m sorry. You know better than I.”
The great thing about arrogant men was that they thought they were smarter than everyone else and often liked to lecture.
The Chinese man laughed. “How much do you know about America?”
“Not much.”
“Well, let me tell you about the United States. It is not only decadent, it is completely reliant upon technology. If you remove their technology, they die.”
“Die?” repeated Tang.
“Yes,” the officer replied. “They die. None of them are prepared to take care of themselves. They believe that their stores will always be open and stocked with food, that their pharmacies will be stocked with drugs, that water will continue to flow from their taps, that their heating, their air-conditioning, and even their civil order will continue in perpetuity, no matter what happens.”
Tang approached with some clean bandages and swapped them for the bloody cloth. “But how do you remove a nation’s technology?” he asked.
“With a very powerful weapon developed by your country.”
“The DPRK?”
The officer changed the subject. “How many stitches will my hand need?”
He tried to lift the clean bandages to examine it, but Tang stopped him, “You need to keep pressure on it.”
The man relented and reverted to the previous subject. “Are you familiar with your country’s nuclear tests?”
Tang nodded. “Yes, they were a glorious success. There were many television programs about them. The West and the Americans fear us because of our military strength.”
The officer laughed and shook his head. “The West made fun of your nuclear tests. They said that they weren’t serious. That the yield was too low.”
“The yield?” the CIA man said, trying to appear uninformed enough that the Chinese man would keep talking. “I don’t understand. The TV programs said—”
“The television programs are propaganda. So were the tests. The yield was never intended to be any larger than it was.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. Just like the Americans. Everyone believed the DPRK was testing conventional weapons. They were not.”
“They were not?” Tang repeated.
“No. They were testing something very unconventional.”
“A weapon that can remove a nation’s technology?”
The Chinese officer smiled. “Now you’re beginning to understand.”
“But doesn’t a nuclear weapon remove everything? Not just the technology?”
“You’re a somewhat educated man,” the soldier said. “You should know about electromagnetic energy.”
Tang’s heart stopped in his chest. Now he understood what Hana had been mumbling when the Chinese officer entered the infirmary.
“I know how doctors use it, but not how soldiers would,” he replied. “Is it a missile fired from a ship? Or is it dropped from a plane?”
The soldier suddenly decided he was done chatting. “You’re right. These things are beyond your understanding. Enough talking. Focus on my hand.”
Tang wanted to press the issue, but he had already been inside the camp too long. If he didn’t leave, there was a good chance Fordyce would come in looking for him and there were a million and one ways that could end up badly.
Wheeling the tray over, Tang reclined the table and asked his patient to sit back.
The Chinese officer, though, was having second thoughts. “I think I would rather see the real doctor.”
“That would not be a good idea.”
“Who are you to question my request?”
Tang pantomimed the doctor drinking alcohol, and the officer got the point. “Oh,” he said. “I see.”
“Please,” Tang offered, encouraging him once more to lie back.
“Do you have anything for pain?” the soldier asked.
“I might,” he replied, stepping back to the cabinet.
Turning, he saw the Chinese officer swing his feet up on the table and lie back. The table had been set up along the wall so the patient faced the door, not the cabinets. Tang was behind him.
“Can you please remove the dressing and